One Hundred Little Things
by Sensara
Summary: Sequel to "What Doesn't Kill You". Lucy is on her way towards her degree, determined to get into the IME and find Strom again. But the ghosts of her past may find her first, and when everything starts to crumble, even the little things become hard to take. Can Strom and her friends help her through the storm? Rated T for mature themes, some chapters may be M.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC. Thank you to everyone who reviewed "What Doesn't Kill You", and hope you enjoy this installment.**_

_**A/N: This is not a happy story, at least not for a while. For those of you sensitive to this sort of thing, please bow out now. I'm sorry. For the rest of you, buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy ride.**_

_He gripped the lirpa in his hand, stroking his fingers over the sehlat hide that wrapped around the handle. The blade end glimmered in the cold moonlight, and the blunt end was hefty; it felt good to lift it and feel its weight in his hand._

_His opponent stood before him, the man's back straight as a pin, his brown eyes dull with logic, a silver brow slightly cocked in defiance. Or was that amusement?_

_The thought annoyed him, and he poured his growing ire into his grip. He raised the lirpa, ready to fight, and he noted vaguely that his opponent was unarmed. Unusual...had he disarmed him? _

_He swept the blade across his opponent's face, and the man made no motion to move. The lirpa left in its wake a gash of green blood, and the sight of the bleeding mark filled him up with perverse pleasure. Served that bastard right..._

_Again he struck, this time a sharp jab to his throat, and more blood began to flow. He felt his face contort into a disturbing grin, and yet it felt so good, so right..._

_Another blow, lower still, splitting the old man's golden jacket. He spied gray hair on his chest and switched ends of his weapon, delivering a crushing blow to the man's chest. With a soft _oomf, _the man collapsed onto the ground._

_He howled in victory as he straddled his chest, casting away his weapon. He would do away with the old man with his bare hands...it was so much more satisfying to do it that way...he could watch the life drain from those mud-colored eyes, increasing or decreasing the pressure, drawing out his death, watching fear replace that cold, despicable logic..._

_He laughed aloud, a depraved cackle that both stung and soothed his ears..._

"_You took her away from me," he growled to the elderly Vulcan struggling beneath his grip. "And now I will kill you...yes, struggle, let me see you try and break free, you weakling..." _

_The life slowly drained out of his eyes, and he laughed beneath the cold moonlight..._

Strom awoke with a gasp, bringing his bio controls quickly back in line. He swallowed thickly, breathing in and out through his nose.

He rose from bed and quickly went to his meditation alcove, lighting the candle with a shaking hand. His dreams had been turbulent over the last month, yes; most involved hunting Koss and Lucy again. But they had never gotten this explicitly violent...he had never felt such perverse pleasure in killing before, never in waking life, never in dreams. And he certainly would have never thought the recipient of this dark desire to kill would be Oratt.

Then again, he had recalled him, restricting his chances to help Lucy heal and eventually claim her if she wished it...

He turned off that thought and focused his attention on the flame.

…

Lucy loaded her plate with egg salad and a water, then found a quiet corner of the cafeteria to eat. She didn't look at anyone as she ate, focusing her attention on the PADD in front of her. She was reading ahead in her class, and tonight she would concentrate on her homework. Her food disappeared from her plate in a matter of minutes, and soon she was striding out of the cafeteria, her eyes on her PADD.

She collided with someone and looked up, and she heard laughter.

"Woah," the young man said, his brown eyes twinkling. "Watch yourself, woman."

"I will. Sorry about that," she said, then turned her attention back to her PADD as she walked on.

"What are you reading?" he asked, catching up with her.

"My textbook," she replied flatly, turning the page.

"That interesting, huh? What class is it for?"

"Chemistry."

"Ok," he said with an easy laugh. "So did you come from the caf? Do you want to come eat with me and my friends?"

"Thanks, but I need to get started on some homework."

"It's the second day back."

"So?" she said, frowning up at him. "Why is that any excuse?"

"Ok..." he said, and she waved in farewell, turning her attention once more to her work.

…

Strom sat down at his desk and pulled a new pile of PADDs toward him, determined to get some work done. Maybe work would take his mind off of Lucy. Little things reminded him of her: Mousse curled up in a patch of sunlight, her shirt sitting next to his pillow on his bed, _plomeek_ broth boiling away on the stovetop. Every time he saw a human, he thought of her. Every time he read about Earth in print, he thought of her. Even when he closed his eyes at night and tried to think of nothing, he thought of her.

Last night's disturbing dream was still on his mind when Oratt strode in and handed him a PADD, and Strom took it with a curt nod.

"You look tired," the senior physician said tartly. Strom blinked slowly.

"I am adequate," he lied, turning his attention to the material at hand. Oratt nodded and left the room.

…

As midterms for her Foreign Relations class, the teacher sent them all information on what classes they would have to know for the next step in their education. Lucy looked over the information for those seeking a posting with Vulcans, and she smiled slightly at herself regarding the itinerary. Two years of Vulcan language studies, which included material on Vulcan culture, along with physiology courses regarding their logical, green-blooded allies. Most of the class started talking among themselves, but Lucy kept looking over the coursework. She quickly searched for summer classes that she could take and found three per condensed semester, and she decided to sign up for all of them.

"Also, I would like to introduce the two professors who will be teaching all of you, should you continue with this program. This is Professor Pezil, from Denobula, and Professor T'Lur, from Vulcan."

She looked up and saw a Vulcan with golden eyes and a solid build, and he was scanning the students, as if incredulous that any of them could make it in his class. She smirked and turned her attention to Pezil, who spoke first. She was a kindly-looking woman, and Lucy could tell most of the students would probably be going for her class.

But Lucy looked at her schedule again as T'Lur spoke, warning them that she and the other Vulcan professor would not take anyone but the most dedicated of students. She smiled at her schedule, making an appointment with her advisor as the two aliens walked out of the room. She would be taking a class with one of the Vulcans, she would show them just how good of a student she could be.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you to Fameanon, Just a Crazy-Man, snapeissexy, maba7x, Ahlysha, and the anon reviewer for reviewing!**_

_**A/N: This chapter contains slurs. Because that's how douchebags talk. I don't mean to offend any homosexual people who read this. I think I'm trying to advocate the opposite of the douchebags, or I'd like to think I am.**_

Lucy wondered why her counselor had put her in this class instead of the regular Vulcan course, but she guessed all that blind determination had paid off. Apparently, compared to the strict but fair T'Lur, Sirak was a much harder teacher. She hoped she would last the course, and she straightened herself as more students came in. Most were seemingly trying to get as far away from the front as they could, but Lucy had chosen a seat in the front row, on the side of the room furthest from the door. She was out of the way enough to not look like a teacher's pet, or too eager, yet close enough for the instructor to understand that she took the class seriously, and wasn't afraid of him.

The man in question strode in a few minutes later, five minutes before the class was due to start, and she adjusted her PADD as she waited for him to speak.

He examined each one and then, when they were all seated, he spoke. "Welcome to my class. You will address me as Osu Sirak, or Osu. I have standards unlike most of your other professors. I promise you not all of you will be here at the end that have started. If you notice my accent is the proper accent of Vulcan. It is Shi'Kahr, the capital, and the oldest continuous settlement on the planet. When you speak Vulcan you will speak it with my accent."

He walked across the room watching his students, "Translate this into Vulcan, and when you are finished I want to know who spoke the wisdom." He wrote on the board: _Logic is the cement of our civilization with which we ascend from chaos, using reason as our guide._

"Begin."

Lucy glanced down at PADD and began the translation, consulting her textbook when necessary. It wasn't that hard, really, though she could see a lot of people around her wondering what the hell Sirak was doing.

"Um, sir...Osu..." one student said, raising their hand, "you haven't taught us any Vulcan. How are we supposed to translate this?"

She ignored them and continued working, and within ten minutes she had what looked like a passable translation on her PADD. She waited for Sirak to speak.

Sirak waved the boy who asked the question forward. When he approached with nothing in his hands Sirak said softly, "Bring your things with you."

The boy did, and when he made it to the head of the class Sirak walked out the door, whispering something to him, and then shut the door behind him.

He then made his way to the center of the class and stood before his desk. "Good. Now, everyone send your translations to me. The gentleman who had the question has been the first victim of my class. He will be taken down to the remedial class. Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to why?" Sirak folded his hands before him and quirked an eyebrow. "Anyone?"

No one answered, and Lucy was rather confused. She leaned back in her seat and waited for an explanation.

Sirak pursed his lips, "This was not a test of your skill of the Vulcan language. This was a skill of your logic. There were many ways you could complete the task, including looking up the translation in your book. Chapter one, page 19, along with the biography of the Great T'Plana Hath, who first uttered the phrase: _Nam-tor Ozhika kluterek t'sha'sutenivaya - k'ish she-tor etek s'nezhak - isan utvau vah sha'kakhartayek._

He walked forward looking at everyone in the eye, "There are many ways to do a thing asked of you that you do not know how to do. I believe your human artist Picasso is quoted as saying '_I am always doing what I do not know how to do, so that I might learn to do them_'. I asked you to do a task that you did not have the complete information required to do. Had the boy asked me to assist him in his translation, I would have done so and he would have remained in our class. His logic was flawed. He wanted to complain about that which he did not have instead of asking questions to gain what he needed to comply. He did not use logic as a tool, he attempted to use it as a crutch. Anyone that now remains in this class that thinks my test was unfair, you may leave. I will now look over your translations while you all read the first chapter, and write down 10 questions you have about Vulcan culture as it is related to the fist chapter. Begin now."

Lucy waited until his back was turned, then narrowed her eyes at him. For some reason, her first impression of him wasn't that great. He seemed like he was a good teacher, but the young man, in her opinion, had every right to question the purpose of making them translate what they didn't know. But then, the book wasn't that hard to read.

She was done with the first chapter in ten minutes, and had questions written down in another five.

_1. What was life like before the Awakening?  
2. What convinced your people to turn to logic?  
3. What's the official stance on V'tosh katur on your world?  
4. Why do you disdain emotional humans when it should be obvious that humans who don't express their emotions usually become mentally unstable?  
5. Why do you profess the concept of the IDIC, yet don't follow through with your teachings?  
6. Is it something we're doing that offends you?  
7. Why do you all cut your hair the same way?  
8. Is it significant when a Vulcan male starts waiting on a human female hand and foot?  
9. How long did it take you to rebuild your society and travel to the stars?  
10. Do you spend time with the faculty on campus? I suppose it's rather personal, but I'm just trying to place you. _

One at a time Sirak called each student to his desk. He spent a few minutes with each and then they were sent out of the class. He called Lucy up last and bid her to sit next to him. He took her questions. He read over her questions with a nod and then he turned to look at her, his golden eyes twinkling with something close to approval.

"Your translation was imperfect, Lucy, but very nearly accurate, and it was evident that you did your translation yourself. I am impressed. I do not impress easily."

He looked at her questions, "Pick one question for now, and I will answer it for you. I will answer all of them in due time for as long as you are in this class. I am also impressed with your questions, logical and thoughtful, you are trying to glean a picture of Vulcan society. Commendable."

He folded his hands before himself and looked at her, "Pick one. I will also note that you are the only one I am doing this for today, as your work was superior."

She blushed, then read over her questions. "Um...numbers 4 and 5 are kind of related. Either one of those, I guess."

She kept her eyes on her lap. She would have been fine hearing about _V'tosh katur_ in writing form, but hearing it out loud would be too much. The others weren't very thoughtful in her opinion, just things she had half-gleaned from Strom and the Vulcans at the medical conference. The situation with Sorak and her mother could wait.

She waited, silent and attentive.

"I will answer both since they as you say are interrelated." He leaned back, "V'tosh katur, Vulcans without logic and why do we not accept them under the concept of IDIC. It is a simple and rather anticlimactic answer." he pursed his lips, "You humans have criminals do you not?"

Lucy nodded.

"Would you accept an unrepentant rapist into your society? Not one who has paid their jail time and has reformed his ways, but an actual active rapist?"

"No, Osu."

"Then you know now why we do not accept _V'tosh katur_ under the concept of IDIC. Vulcans without logic are dangerous people and they are unrepentant. Now, I know that is a generalization, that out of 100 _V'tosh katur_, one or two might not act in a deviant anti-social behavior. The 98 or 99 others will. Humans see Vulcans a benign beings, calmed and dispassionate, unthreatening and inoffensive. Do not mistake the facade for the truth. Beneath this calm rages a beast capable of atrocities, if we do not cage this beast with logic..." He frowned. "I do not mean now to be graphic, but that is where our rapists, murderers, and people who would see us once again plunged into war...that is where they come from."

He looked her in the eye. "Does that answer your questions?"

"I asked about humans," she said. "But thank you, Osu, for the...enlightenment about...them. I..."

She paused and bowed her head. She knew firsthand the graphic violence of the _V'tosh katur_ when not curbed. She had witnessed several of Koss' atrocities through his eyes. The rape, the arson, the violent murders...

"I agree that they should not be considered a part of the IDIC. I was wondering about your apparent disdain for humans and our way of life."

"I have no disdain for humans and your way of life." he said placing his hands over his stomach, "Open shows of emotion are considered distasteful to my people for the reasons I just mentioned. You may translate our discomfort, as you are a reminder of what we cannot be, as a social barrier, but the Vulcans I know do not disdain your people. Our directness, I believe your word for it is bluntness, might seem offensive."

He smirked softly. "If a human asks, 'does this dress make me look fat', and the Vulcan answers that it does, or that it is not the dress but indeed the girth of their body that makes them look fat...you may take offense, but we are simply answering the question you have asked in the most logical manner possible. If you are inquiring because you believe we are holding you back from the stars." He shrugged, "I do not know nor can I answer their motives. I do know the galaxy is dangerous, and we are not anxious to see harm come to you and your people. It is a wise species that learns to crawl before they walk. If we did not accept you, Lucy Hardister, I would not be here teaching you, nor would we be here at all. Many races have gone to the stars without our people walking with them."

"Ok," she said, standing and gathering her things. "Thank you for answering my questions, Osu. I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Indeed. I was uncertain at first if you would succeed in this class, but with hard work and dedication, you will do well."

Her eyes glittered, somewhat darkly. "Oh, believe me...I know that very well. Good day, Osu."

She strode out of the classroom, not bothering to look back. She had another class and had to get going, and she hoped she didn't come off as rude.

…

She was eating lunch as usual, in a corner by herself, when she heard a crashing noise in front of her. An African-American boy had tripped, and his food was splattered all over him and the floor. Lucy jumped up to help him, glaring at the boys at the table next to hers, who did nothing.

"Nice going, faggot!" one cried, and Lucy restrained herself from pouring the punk's soda down his shirt. She helped the boy to his feet and led him to the bathroom, leaving her stuff, hoping the idiots at the other table wouldn't touch it.

"You ok?" she asked, grabbing a wad of paper towels and cleaning his shirt as best she could.

"Yeah," the boy said. His voice was soft and light, and she smiled at him. He dressed very colorfully, and even though his bright blue shirt was now stained with spaghetti sauce, she looked down at his outfit with an appraising eye.

"You look snazzy today," she said with a smile. "I love your outfit."

"Thanks!" he said, looking at her. "Girl, I gotta say, lovin' those boots."

She thanked him and led him back to her seat, helping him clean up the mess, and when he got a new plate, he sat down across from her.

"The name's Sylvester. You can call me Vester if you want to, though. Whatever works for you, girlfriend."

"Lucy Hardister," she said, offering him her hand. He took it with a smile.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Lucy."

"Likewise. What are you here for?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You know...your major?"

Vester laughed. "Oh, for a minute I though you were talkin' 'bout a prison, honey."

"Oh, Lord no...though it feels like it sometimes, with the load of work I get to do."

"What do you do?"

"I'm trying for the IME."

His lips contorted into a sassy grin. "Oh, ambitious! I like!"

She giggled and took a bite of pasta, ignoring the glares from the boys at the other table.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon, snapeissexy, Ahlysha, maba7x, and dinopoodle for reviewing.**_

Sirak strode into the advanced class and set his things down on the desk, then turned to the. Taking in a deep breath, he raised an eyebrow. "What is unreal cannot exist," he said. "That comes from one of our great philosophers. Do any of you know which one, or can any of you translate this into the proper Golic Vulcan for me?"

He placed the flat of his hands on his desk and stared out over the handful of students. "You have ten standard minutes. Starting now."

Lucy stared at him. _Kiri-kin-tha._ she thought, but bowed her head and worked on her translation. Wasn't it time some other person answered the questions? It was getting embarrassing and hard to explain when inexplicable answers just came to her. She didn't want to think about it. She knew exactly where the answers were coming from, but she had promised herself. Don't think about it. Don't think about _him._

She looked up when Sirak's shadow crossed her desk. "_Yes, sir_?" she said quietly in Vulcan.

"Lucy, I have been to every desk in here saving yours for last." he cocked his head sideways, "Would you please stand and answer the question for me. Who said, 'What is unreal cannot exist', and if you can, translate it into proper Golic Vulcan for the rest of the class."

He turned and walked toward the front of the class again. "Listen up class, Lucy is about to impart the knowledge." He got to his desk and turned to face the class. He held his hand out. "And answer."

She bit her lip, looking at all the other students, and she felt herself flush. "All right," she said in Vulcan. "Kiri-kin-tha's first law of metaphysics states that nothing unreal exists."

She sat back down and hung her head low over her book, knowing the other people in the class were probably coming to the same conclusion: Lucy was a teacher's pet. She sighed and focused her attention on Sirak again, wishing he wouldn't show her off like that.

Sirak slammed his palm down on the desk and surveyed the entire class room. "You are all in an advanced Vulcan class. This is Vulcan studies, not just the language, but all that makes up Vulcan. How we think, what we do, why do it, and so on and so forth. Kiri-kin-tha's first rule of metaphysics is something I learned when I was three years old. Yet everyone in this class, save one person, could not answer the question. It is chapter one in your books."

He shook his head, "Unacceptable. Unacceptable on every level. Humans complain that Vulcans don't share with them, but what do share you don't bother to learn."

He turned his back to the class and began writing the first rule of metaphysics on the board, in all the currently accepted forms of Vulcan. "Chapter one page 16. You will translate the first chapter to page 16 in both your text books, and..." He walked over to a young woman who had an old paperback romance novel. He picked it up and ripped out the 16th page from it, scanned it into his com, and forwarded it to all the class. "This book, and one book of your choosing. Dismissed."

He waved his hand in a dismissive signal. As the kids began filing out he stopped them with a simple word. "The person who accomplishes this task correctly will be rewarded the paid assistants position and be allowed to travel with me to Dekendi for the language conference." He sat down at his desk and stared at his screen.

The students all walked out, and Lucy was the last one out. She frowned at Sirak, who looked preoccupied with his PADD. She slowly approached him.

"I read the chapter, but I didn't remember that little detail. And you expect them to? I thought Kiri-kin-tha's first law of metaphysics was..." She stopped, shook her head and walked out.

"Ms. Hardister."

She turned back to him, breathing in deeply.

"If you say you didn't remember that detail from your reading, how did you come up with it today?"

She stared at him, the jumbled memories of the meld rushing to the forefront of her brain. She must have winced, or made a face, because he suddenly looked concerned.

"You don't want to know," she said simply, then left.

...

The next day Sirak walked into class. He did not say anything; he simply brought up the chapter and page of the quote from the day before, which had a picture of a poorly carved image, supposedly of Kiri-kin-tha.

"Everyone send me your work and begin reading chapter two while I grade it."

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then focused on the chapter she was due to read. It came slower than usual, but when she felt her pace slipping, she felt a sting in her shoulder, memories of marks long gone...she quickened her pace and was done first, and she rubbed her neck while the others continued working. It was almost as if she could feel teeth piercing her skin again, looking into his eyes again...

_Shut it,_ she growled to herself, focusing on staying awake. Last night had been sleepless, as she had to do a ton of medical studies homework on top of the translations, and when she couldn't find sleep right away, she jumped up and translated another page out of the book, just for extra practice. She fell asleep in the middle of the translation, and had woken up this morning with a page stuck to her face.

By the end of the class Sirak had sent everyone their grades. He stood and dismissed class watching everyone walk out, but he didn't tell who had won the paid assistant position.

The next day, Lucy got to class early and took her usual seat in front. She still felt tired, and hadn't eaten anything since the night before. She sighed and pulled out her book, getting a head start on chapter 3.

"Dude, I mean, seriously, blowing up about some stupid little detail about meta-what-the-eff? What's up with that?"

"What grade did you get?"

"I got a D. Figures. Probably gonna fail this class."

"Bet Lucy got an A. I mean, does she have a Vulcan encyclopedia in her head? And you can see how he treats her! Get a room, you two, sheesh."

For some inexplicable reason, this conversation brought tears to her eyes, but she wiped them away, using her hair as a curtain. Sirak wasn't in yet, and she refocused on her chapter.

Sirak entered and waved the boy who had been speaking ill in his class down to his desk, "This is not a place of freedom of speech especially when the speech is disgraceful, Mr. Hardaroy." He flipped his com monitor on so everyone heard what was said.

"Humans seem to mature at a much slower rate than Vulcans, and perhaps at your age you find such discussions amusing, but what you have done disgraces yourself, not me, nor anyone else you have spoken about. This is the third time I have caught you on my monitor." He pressed a button and three more episodes of ill mannered speech played.

"Now you have crossed a line, you insinuated unsavory acts, between myself and Miss Hardister. You are dismissed from my class. You may earn your doctorate in diplomacy." he raised an eyebrow, "Over in the Denobulan language section. Dismissed, Hardaroy."

"I'll talk to my father about this!" Hardaroy said spitefully.

"Feel free to do so. I've sent copies of your transcripts and all of your behaviors to him personally, and to your mother, and the dean as well."

He looked to the class. "From the first day you enter this class, I make my expectations known to each and every one of you. You sign a copy of my expectations and I keep them on file. This class is a privilege, not an entitlement. When you enter this room you cease being on Earth soil, you are on Vulcan soil. My standards will be met, and those who cannot meet my standards will be gone."

He scanned the classroom. "Would anyone else care to join Hardaroy over in in the Denobulan language and culture classes?"

Lucy put her head down, refusing to see who all left. About five other people left the room with Hardaroy, and Lucy tried to focus on the chapter, but tears were welling in her eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to get a hold of herself.

She didn't look up until class started, and even then, she didn't look Sirak in the eye, even when he called on her to answer questions. The rest of the class seemed a little on edge, and when he dismissed them, she packed up her things, but froze when he called her name for her to stay behind.

She stared down at her still-open book, fighting tears, that pain in her neck coming back. She rubbed it, blocking her view of the outside world with her hair, struggling to stay awake.

Sirak frowned and shook his head as she approached. He was going to offer her the assistant position but she seemed emotionally unstable. He sat back down. "I will speak with you on Monday, Miss Hardister. You are dismissed." he said softly.

She was almost to the door when she heard him speak again. "Miss Hardister, you are not yourself. You appear not to have eaten or rested. You will remedy this before coming to my class again. I would be disagreeable to losing a prized student."

She blinked and looked down at her shoes. "Good day, Osu," she said quietly in Vulcan, then turned and left.

She saw several members of the class in the lobby, quietly discussing the day's events among themselves, and they all went quiet when she approached.

"Lucy, you ok?" one asked, and she looked back at the girl, her hair still swinging in her eyes.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm ok."

"So...what's the big deal about meta-whatever?"

"Metaphysics? Kiri-kin-tha was one of the first philosophers on their world, a student of Surak and a renowned healer. If you look at her first law, it's inherently logical. Nothing unreal exists. Such blatant logic, and focus on the transitory power of meditation and study, was at the heart of her writings. He obviously thinks she's important, otherwise he wouldn't make a big deal about it."

The girl shook her head. "How do you remember all of that?"

Lucy winced. "I don't want to talk about it."

...

Lucy ate lunch with Sylvester and his friend Star. She and Lucy had met when Sylvester had dragged her to a campus LGBTQ meeting, and though Lucy didn't exactly fit in with those gathered, she did make a few new friends.

"Sheesh, Lucy, are you hungry?" Vester teased as she dug into a baked potato.

"Obviously," she said after she swallowed.

Vester giggled, but Star looked somewhat skeptical. "Hey...I heard what Ryan said about you. That was-"

"Star, please."

She looked down at her baked potato and dug out another bite of it. "Just...let it go."

...

Lucy sat down heavily in her seat, draining the last of her coffee before setting the empty cup at her feet. She felt light-headed, almost queasy, from the walk from the bus station to class. Her face felt too hot and the rest of her too cold, but she concentrated on her work. So what if she hadn't eaten all day? Did it really matter that much? So what if she hadn't sleep but four hours last night? She would take a nap later.

Sirak entered the classroom, and behind him was Hardaroy. Sirak sat and nodded to the young man.

Hardaroy stood before the class and spoke in Vulcan, "_I would ask forgiveness for my behavior last week. I was wrong in saying the things I said, and I did Osu a dishonor in behaving the way I did. I dishonored his teachings, and the time he invests in me, and in all of us._" He switched to Standard. "Your service honors me, Osu. May I return to class?"

Sirak nodded, "On probation, but you may return."

The boy took his seat. Sirak stood, frowning he stood before the class. "Now, last week we discussed the first law of metaphysics. This week we discuss T'Plana-Hath, does anyone know what she said?"

Lucy glanced around at the room, and some were rifling through their textbooks, but looking back at Sirak, she saw he was waiting on an answer. She felt light-headed, almost woozy for a second, but she leaned back and raised her hand. Sirak nodded to her.

"Logic is the cement of our civilization from which we ascend from chaos, using reason as our guide," she said, remembering the gist of the phrase from chapter 3, but the specifics...the way it rolled off her tongue...she swallowed thickly and looked down at her notes, avoiding Sirak's eye. Her neck was hurting again, and she rubbed it, focusing on the words on the page.

Her stomach growled, but she ignored it, writing down her notes with diligence as always. She felt a yawn come on, but she simply covered it with her hand and continued taking notes. _Concentrate_, she told herself.

The class came to an end, and Lucy packed up her things, letting all the other students go in front of her as they always did. She stood up, then sat right back down, her head spinning a little.

"Ms. Hardister?"

She stood up and picked up her bag, ignoring the strange feeling rising in her face. She was just fine. She stumbled a little, but slowly bent down and retied her shoes, hoping he wouldn't notice they were perfectly tied beforehand.

"Ms. Hardister."

She turned and stared at him. "Yes, Osu?"

He frowned at her, "Ms. Hardister, I was going to offer you the assistant position, but you are wan, losing weight, your eyes are blood shot indicating lack of sleep. I hear your stomach grumble in hunger no less than five times in an hour. I do not think you would be capable of handling the regular classwork as well as the position I would offer you. Your grades have gone down .3 percent in the past week in all your classes, and your focus has been abysmal. All these things indicate that you are over stretched."

He paused, looking back at his PADD. "It is a shame...I am getting a project from the time of Surak. I thought you would be pleased to work on it, given your normal enthusiasm." He sighed and picked up his briefcase. "I wanted to make you aware of this, in hopes that you will rectify this situation so you may become my assistant. The trip to Dekendi and the historical significance of the project, along with the pay, would be appealing."

He nodded to her and exited the room.

She waited for him to pass her, then sat back down in the nearest available desk. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't you dare start crying, don't you dare..._

She stared at the floor, and instead of going home, she decided to stay and get some work done. So her concentration was abysmal, hm? She'd show him...

Lucy started work on an essay and a reading she had to do for Thursday, keeping herself occupied for over an hour. She felt her stomach growl, but ignored it. She'd show him.

...

Lucy breathed in and sat down in class, closing her eyes briefly. It had been a bad week for sure, maybe even a bad month, but she was back in business, back to show Sirak what she was made of.

When he strode in the door, she raised her eyebrows and smiled at him, straightening her posture and focusing on him. She felt...centered today, in control, and it was a wonderful feeling. She could feel it in her eyes even, and she was sure they were sparkling. He began the lesson, and she settled in, taking notes, focusing purely on the task at hand.

"Translate the English text I'm handing out now into Golic standard. You have ten standard minutes. Begin."

She looked over it and began translating immediately, and she was done in less than five minutes. She looked up at Sirak with a bright stare, then looked back over the text, rechecking her work.

Sirak saw a turn around in Lucy. He waited for several days, seeing that she was, for all appearances doing much better. On Friday, he called her back after class.

"Miss Hardister, I have noted that you have turned around. I would offer you my assistant position." He stood, putting his hands behind his back. "But this is probationary. If I see you slipping again, if I see you not taking care of yourself, I will discharge you."

He nodded to her, giving him a ghost of a smile. "It is agreeable to see you in better health, mental and physical. I will be watching you, Lucy; you are far too valuable of a person to allow yourself to wither away."

She flinched slightly, but straightened her expression, grinning at him. "Understood, Osu," she said cheerfully. "You won't be disappointed."


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon, Ahlysha, T'Sara, dinopoodle, maba7x, snapeissexy, catstop, 2redbird, and Black-Moon-Onaa-Inu for reviewing._**

"How is Lucy doing?" Sorak asked. Sirak sighed.

"I am unsure of her condition, brother. Earlier in the semester, she did not take adequate care of herself, and she was overloaded on work. However, she seemed to turn around, and now she helps me translate the letters I told you about. She is a brilliant translator. She catches slang and subtle nuances as only a human could, and she is at the top of my class."

"That is good to know," Sorak replied. "I was concerned that she would become overwhelmed, and it seems my concerns were well-founded."

"She has promised to take better care of herself, else I will dismiss her. But tell me, brother...why is she so..."

"She sometimes does not seem fully aware of herself and her surroundings?"

"Yes, she does seem distracted at times, but I concluded she was only thinking. She often comes to correct conclusions when she...what is the human phrase, zones out?"

Sorak raised an eyebrow. "I must have your silence on this, brother."

"You have my word," Sirak said with a nod of his head.

Sorak swallowed thickly. "She met a _V'tosh ka'tur_. At the IME conference on Dekendi six months ago."

The professor frowned. "So that is why she asked about them."

"She did what?"

"At the beginning of the semester, I told my class to write down ten questions they had for me. She asked about the official stance on _V'tosh ka'tur_ on Vulcan."

"Ah," Sorak replied. He was quiet for a moment. "He raped her mind, Sirak. And bonded her to himself."

Sirak's inhalation was loud and sharp, and he was silent for several seconds. He felt slightly ill. "I grieve with her and her family."

"What's left of it," the aide said bitterly. "The _V'tosh ka'tur_ killed her father."

His brother bowed his head. "And she decided to go to college after all this?"

"Obviously."

"Why the hurry? No one would have faulted her for taking a few semesters off. She has suffered great losses."

"A Vulcan doctor was assigned to guard her. My guess is that she fell in love with him, and that he desired her for his wife. But Strom was recalled. She is most likely trying to earn her degree more quickly than usual, so she can return to him."

"Does she communicate with him, at least?"

"To my knowledge, she does."

Sirak sighed. "And she informed me yesterday that she had received an internship at Starfleet Medical. A semester-long internship."

The aide frowned. "So she is taking a full load of classes, is working as your paid assistant, and will be working at Starfleet Medical as well?"

Sirak nodded, his expression sober. "I'm sure you agree with my assessment, that she will have a mental breakdown before the summer is over."

"That is too much for someone like her to handle."

"Exactly," the professor affirmed. "I will encourage her to drop the internship."

"She will most likely refuse you."

Sirak sighed. "Then I will drop her as my assistant. She cannot do all of this and not break down."

His brother nodded grimly. "She will resent the decrease in work."

"I believe your assessment is correct, but how did you come to that conclusion?"

"She once said to me, 'hard work will set me free'. I thought the words sounded familiar, and when I searched-"

"The gate over Auschwitz concentration camp," Sirak interjected. Sorak nodded. "Did you tell her mother?"

"No," Sorak said with a sigh. "I have to believe she did not mean the words quite like that."

"I believe she might have meant them exactly like that. She seems almost...addicted to work. She cannot succeed if she continues down this path. I will attempt to make her see that."

"I hope you can convince her to scale back on her work. Her mother wants to know if she's making friends."

"She socializes with a few other students, and her connection to them seems strong. But her main objective, it seems, is to work as much and as hard as she can."

Sirak thought for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. "What about this doctor? He sounds familiar."

"Strom is an outstanding physician, if a little...pompous. From what Mina told me, Lucy adores him."

Sirak's eyes brightened. "Mina? Since when has she been Mina to you, and not Mrs. Hardister?"

The aide's ears turned vibrant green, and he was silent.

"You desire her," Sirak deduced. "V'Lar will be pleased."

Sorak restrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Has she been hounding you as well?"

"She and our clan mother. I have my career, my students. I don't have time to concern myself with that, not yet."

The aide raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps you are searching in the wrong place."

"If you are implying that I would find a human mate agreeable-"

"They are fiercely loyal, and compassionate. Do not dismiss the notion so quickly, brother. We've grossly underestimated them."

"Most are childish and wildly emotional."

"Your students are, perhaps. Look outside your classroom, Sirak. She may be closer than you realize."

Sirak sighed. "Thank you for the information on Lucy. I will speak to her as soon as possible."

Sorak seemed a little crestfallen, but he nodded and ended the call. Sirak glared at the screen, then went back to grading translations.

…

Lucy scrolled down the page and read a little more of the reading assignment Sirak had given the class, and Star doodled on her PADD.

"And so I've passed the midterm, but I just don't think Organic Chemistry is my thing, you know? I know my mom really would have liked for me to be a chemist, but I just...I think IME would be cool, but I don't have the brains to do all that science. I barely passed my Biology midterm."

"Well, then, go for diplomacy."

"I could never be an ambassador, Lucy."

"What about teaching? Or cultural exchange? I think you'd make a good teacher. If you do some serious heart-searching, you could have a shiny new major by your birthday next week."

Star was silent, and Lucy looked up. Her friend was staring across the courtyard, her expression awed.

"Star?"

"Lucy," she whispered. "Can I have him for my birthday?"

She stared in the direction Star was gazing and found a red headed, freckled boy. "Who, the redhead? I thought you liked girls!"

Star shook her head. "Not him. _Him_."

Lucy looked again and saw her language professor walking among his students, looking down at their work and correcting them.

"Osu Sirak?" she realized with a wicked grin.

"You know him?" She sounded panicked.

"Yeah. He's my Vulcan language professor."

She looked worried. "He teaches here?"

"Yup," Lucy said cheerfully. "I'm his assistant."

Star's eyes flared with sadness and hurt. "So do you...you know...like him?"

"He's a tough teacher. I like him well enough."

"So you don't...have a thing with him?"

Lucy frowned. "Oh, hell no! No, no, no, my heart belongs...elsewhere. No, not Sirak. He's very nice, though, when he's not teaching."

Her posture stiffened. "Oh, no, he's coming over here!"

"Relax, sweetheart, he's not going to eat you or anything. Sheesh."

Star hid behind her PADD, but Lucy nodded respectfully to her teacher as he strode up to her. "_Ms. Hardister, I would have a word with you, when you are free._"

"_Unfortunately, that's not now, Osu,_" she replied, following his lead and speaking Vulcan. "_I have a paper to write._"

"Lucy, what are you saying to him?" Star hissed, and Sirak raised an eyebrow at her.

"That you're beautiful and single," Lucy whispered in her ear. _"Osu, this is my friend, Star Threadgill_. Star, this is my Vulcan language professor, Sirak." She bent down again. "Happy birthday, my dear."

She sauntered off, waving jauntily at her teacher, who looked very confused.

…

Sirak frowned after Lucy; he hadn't even arranged a time to meet with her, but he would simply keep her after class tomorrow. He sighed, then turned his attention to Lucy's friend, Ms. Threadgill.

"Does she do that often?" he asked. Star squeaked.

"Do what?"

"Leave two people who have never met each other to converse with each other, without her to mitigate. I was under the impression that was considered rude on your world."

Star blushed furiously. "I don't think so. She wanted me to meet you..." She trailed off, her words becoming unintelligible.

"I beg your pardon, Ms. Threadgill?"

"Nothing," she said, looking firmly at the ground. He wasn't sure why she wasn't looking him in the eye, but it did not bring him to the conclusion that this young woman was very confident. It could be that she was simply afraid of Vulcans, but he found he had no inclination to stay and find out.

"If that is all you have to say to me, then I will take my leave of you. Good day."

He turned and strode away, but he thought he felt her gaze burn into his back. He glanced back at her, and she was absorbed in her PADD. He shrugged and returned to his office.

…

"But Osu-"

"_Ms. Hardister, I will hear no argument on this_."

She frowned up at him. "I wasn't arguing with you, Osu. The internship will end at the start of the fall semester. May I come back and be your assistant again at that time?"

He blinked. "That would be acceptable, if I deem you are fit to be my assistant again." He stepped closer and softened his tone. "Lucy, you need to take care of yourself. You are human, and can only do so much. Even a Vulcan who had gone through what you have would most likely be struggling by now. I am...pleased you are doing what you need to do to succeed. But that should not come at the price of your physical or mental health."

"_K'dith_," she said coldly. "What is, is. I appreciate your concern, Osu, but if it's not too much to ask, could you let me put the past behind me?"

He was taken aback at her tone, but nodded. "If you wish. But there is one more thing."

"_Yes, Osu?_"

"Your friend, Ms. Threadgill."

Lucy grinned. "What about her?"

Sirak looked reproachfully down his nose at her, or tried to. "I do not understand your purpose in introducing me to her."

She shrugged. "I thought she'd like to meet you."

"She did not seem very eager to talk."

"She's just shy. I don't think she's ever met a Vulcan before."

He stared at her, pondering her motive, then sighed. "If you say so. I remind you that I take quite poorly to others involving themselves in my personal affairs."

"I would never dream of doing that to you," she replied, that cold tone back. He frowned. "Because I wouldn't want you to do that to me."

He tilted his head. "_Dismissed, Ms. Hardister._"

"_Have a pleasant day, Osu._"

…

Sylvester had just left to go to class, but Lucy lingered in the cafeteria, reading her assignments and translating as she went. She consulted her textbook as needed and blindly shoveled pasta salad into her mouth.

"_What is pretty girl like me doing solemnly?_" a smooth, masculine voice asked. She frowned up at the speaker, a tall, toned boy with sandy blonde hair. His hair was messy, though on closer inspection she discovered it was artfully ruffled. His eyes were brown, and slightly hooded as he looked down at her, but she simply raised an eyebrow.

"_I don't understand what you just said,_" she replied in Vulcan. He set his tray down across from her and sat down.

"See, I'm terrible at Vulcan. And you're just what I need."

She stared at him, nonplussed. "Meaning?"

He grinned wickedly. "You could tutor me. You_ are_ Lucy Hardister, right?"

"I have a lot of things going right now. Can't you find someone else? And yes, I am."

"T'Lur said you're the best in Sirak's class. And I talked to Sirak, and he says he'd count the tutoring as extra credit."

She raised an eyebrow at him again, considering it. "I'll have to confirm that with Osu."

"You call him sir? Even outside of class?"

"Why not? It's respectful. And besides, I'm savoring the opportunity to call him Osu before I have to call him _toz'ot_."*

The young man frowned. "I don't know what that means."

"Long story." She took another bite of pasta salad.

He smirked. "Whatever you say. So do we have a deal?"

"Like I said, I'll have to clear that with Osu. I only have time in the evenings, and that's when I assist him with translations. So I'll get back to you, ok?"

"Sounds good. Can I have your comm number?"

She connected her PADD with his, giving him her contact information, and he grinned at it.

"Alan Ford," she read. "Nice to meet you." She held out her hand for him to shake, and he took it.

"The pleasure's all mine,_ pretty girl_."

He winked and took his tray to another table, and she stared after him incredulously, then went back to her lunch.

*uncle


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon, maba7x, gkell, GEMouse, 2redbird and Bina W for reviewing.**_

"I believe the writer is talking about Gol, and its conversion to logic. I can't really place a logical reason on it, but I stand by what I said two weeks ago. This is a woman, and she's writing to her husband, her _ashayam_, as she calls him."

Sirak raised an eyebrow and glanced over Lucy's shoulder as he handed her a cup of tea, and he nodded as he glanced over her notes. "Her word choice and handwriting suggest that she is female. What else can you tell me about that letter?"

He was surprised when she blushed. "Well, Osu...she may be talking about...intimate things with her husband. I think she's trying to be provocative. See that line there?"

Lucy handed him the letter, and he read the line she had translated, along with her notes. "Something about..._milking you for all you are worth_...a letter to Surak, about milking him...that is not logical."

His student, on the other hand, was blushing bright red, and giggling behind her hand. "What is it, Ms. Hardister?"

She could hardly speak for laughing. "Osu...I think she was talking about...um..."

Sirak raised an impatient eyebrow. "May I remind you that this woman was most likely Vulcan, and as such..." He paused, considering his arguments, and it was possible that this woman was talking about...intimacy...it was a time before the Awakening, in the years when Vulcan was divided between its violent past and its logical future...perhaps she was more passionate than he gave her credit for...

"Ms. Hardister, I thank thee for thy unique perspective. That is a nuance I would have never considered."

"My pleasure, Osu," she said, still giggling. "Forgive me, it's just...the look on your face!"

His face did feel warm, but he turned away, composing himself. "It is not a subject usually discussed among Vulcans, Ms. Hardister. I am certain you are aware of this fact."

"I am," she said, her voice calmer. "But still...I am very sorry for laughing, but sometimes, us poor humans can't help ourselves. You looked so much like the way my mother describes Sorak in that moment...you know, Soval's aide? I'm sure you two have met at some point."

"Sorak is my brother," he said with a nod. "Of course I have met him. He is my twin."

She frowned, her eyebrow raising.

"Fraternal twins. It is rare to be a fraternal twin on Vulcan, and uncommon still to be a twin at all. I am sure we resemble each other."

"You do. You look very much like him. Except for your eyes."

"So I am told." He paused, turning to her. "Is your mother...fond of Sorak?"

"She gushes about him every time she talks to me about him. She's alone now in that big honking house...and Sorak has been an absolute rock for her. I bless the day Soval sent him to get my mother when..."

She trailed off, blushing even harder than before, and Sirak frowned. "Ms. Hardister? Are you unwell?"

"I'm fine, Osu," she said, quicker than she should have, and he sighed.

"Tell me, Lucy...why are you taking my courses in Vulcan language?"

"To enter into the Inter-species Medical Exchange?" she replied, nonplussed.

"Yes, yes, but _why_? Why the Exchange?"

She shook her head. "I like Vulcans? I can't explain it, Osu...I want to go to Vulcan, not only to learn more about your people...but for personal reasons."

"Would you mind sharing those reasons with me?"

Lucy glared at him, but he pressed. "If you share your reasons with me, I will tell you of the numerous encounters I have made with Star Threadgill over the past two weeks."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and then her expression relaxed. "What do you want to know about Strom?"

"What drew you to him?"

She sighed and set the letter gingerly back in its case and set her notes aside, and she leaned back into the couch. He took a seat across from her and waited patiently.

"When I was eight years old, my father called me from Vulcan. He said he wanted me to meet someone, and he handed the PADD over to a Vulcan doctor, named Strom."

Sirak raised his eyebrow. He was not aware that Strom and Lucy had met before the Dekendi incident.

"He was so beautiful, Osu. He had the most gorgeous blue eyes, and his nose...I always thought he had the cutest nose...and his voice...he was so kind, and so wonderful...and I thought to myself, if I ever meet a Vulcan that handsome, I'm going to marry him.

"So the years went by, and I'm assuming you know what happened on Dekendi. Please don't make me recount it. I can't remember half of what happened anyway, and I don't want to."

"You do not," he assured her gently. "I have been told what happened. Sorak secretly set me the task of watching out for you, once he learned you had been put in my class."

She nodded. "I met Strom again, after the incident. He went back to Earth with me and stayed right across from my room...he was so lonely, Sirak. I could see it in his eyes...he didn't have a wife, or children, or many friends to speak of...he was so alone, and all I wanted to do was relieve that loneliness...I want to be a part of his life, and soon, I found myself dreaming of a life with him..."

She seemed to be talking almost to herself now, alone in her thoughts, but Sirak pressed on.

"And why was he recalled?"

She blinked rapidly, still staring at a nondescript place on his coffee table. "He fought for me...he fought..._him_..."

He swallowed thickly. "You are referring to...?"

"_Kal-if-fee_," she breathed. "I am Strom's, Osu...he never released me, and I haven't forgotten."

Several beats of silence passed, and then she shook herself of her reverie and glanced up at him, her eyes bright and curious.

"I've told you my story, Osu. Now it's your turn to spill the beans. You and Star...?"

He nodded in agreement and sighed. "She approached me two weeks ago and asked to sit with me at my table. I agreed, and we had a pleasant conversation. She is very curious about Vulcan culture and my experiences on Earth. She met me again later that week, and again three more times, asking me questions about my life, and I asked about her life. She is a pleasant woman, Lucy, but I hardly think she would accept..."

Her gaze became shrewd. "Accept what, Osu?"

He felt his face get warm again, and he bowed his head. "She is...aesthetically pleasing, Ms. Hardister, and seems to be a bright individual. I am sure our...friendship will blossom as we get to know each other. That is all I have to say."

"Right," she said, turning her attention back to her notes. "Now, about this part here...she's using Golian script, but I can't make heads or tails of it..."

Sirak sighed in relief and attended to her question, shoving the thought of Lucy's petite blonde friend from his mind.

…

Lucy shoved another pair of slacks into a box, her back to the door as she sorted through her clothes and packed them up for the move to another apartment. Living with Desiree and Oratt had been a nice change, and it was comforting to know that the old doctor had found a good wife and changed his attitude along the way, but school was starting up again in two weeks, and she needed to get organized before the semester began.

Still, a part of her would miss being in Desiree's company, helping her and Oratt sort through their problems with the Council of Physicians. Hopefully, when Strom returned to her, no such nonsense would surface and they could live in peace. If Strom returned to her...

She shoved the thought away and folded up another shirt, tossing it in the give-away bag.

"You are leaving?"

"Yes, doctor," she replied, not bothering to turn around and face him. "Didn't I tell you this was only temporary?"

Oratt walked in, weaving around piles of things she had on the floor, and sat gingerly on her stripped bed. "You do not have to leave us so soon. Our son is not due for another five months, and you have time to spare if you wish to stay."

"I truly appreciate that offer, Osu, but you and Desiree need this house to yourselves. You're married now, a child on the way...I am only going to get in your way as time goes on. Besides, I need to be closer to Berkeley now that the semester is starting up again."

He knelt down beside her and started folding clothes with her, and she stared at him incredulously. "Is there anything else?"

"Lucy..." He paused, his brown eyes glimmering with confusion. "Desiree and I want you to be content. She told me how much you work in a week's time, how little rest you get, how little she sees you eat...it is not healthy for you to push your body and your mind to their utmost limit. Please...for our sakes...take care of yourself."

She nodded stiffly, shoving another article of clothing in the give-away bag.

"I do not mean to be condescending, but I know the emptiness you feel. You are lonely. I know what that is like. Working until you collapse will not fill the hole inside of you."

She did not dare meet his gaze, but rather turned to a pile of textbooks and reading material. She started sorting it.

"Lucy, you are human. Some Vulcan men may not do well on their own, but you have the capacity to thrive as an individual. You need no one to make you complete. You _must _see to your own happiness before you seek a mate."

"Doctor, is there anything else?"

He stood and walked to the door, and she watched him go in the corner of her eye. "There is an opening at Starfleet Medical. They are seeking an assistant director for the Vulcan contingent."

"Are you thinking of applying? You'd probably do well."

"No," he said softly. "I have employment options elsewhere...I recommended Strom for this position."

Lucy paused, then turned to Oratt, who was staring at her with an expression that bordered on sadness.

"Don't get my hopes up, doctor...but thank you. That was very considerate."

"I thought you would be more enthusiastic about this."

She sighed. "He hasn't replied to my letters all summer. It's been three months since I've heard from him."

The elder doctor frowned. "Are you sure he has not changed addresses?"

She nodded fiercely. "I checked with the Consulate, doctor. I got the address right."

His frowned deepened. "Excuse me for a moment."

He left, closing the door behind him, and she turned back to her sorting.

…

Strom had just finished another report and was preparing to make himself dinner when his comm beeped, and he raised an eyebrow when a cold, very disappointed-looking Oratt appeared on his screen.

"Osu," the younger doctor said quickly, bowing his head. "Is there something you need? I had heard the Council of Physicians dropped the charges against you."

"Yes," the elder physician said coldly. "Lucy Hardister was instrumental in providing my wife and myself with a loophole. And she found us legal representation and organized the support we came to rely on."

He felt a stab of guilt sting his heart. "She is well, then?"

Oratt shook his head. "She is as far from well as I have seen. She despairs every day of your return, and I can see the hope draining from her eyes. I have lifted your travel restrictions. I have recommended you for a posting here on Earth. You are free to come as soon as you please, and I would suggest you make haste, before she reverts to the sad form you and I saw on Dekendi."

Strom swallowed thickly, silent for a long while. "Why have you done this for me?"

"She has done more than enough for myself and Desiree, and she is leaving our home now, to live by herself, with a handful of friends who do not know the entire truth. The only people who are aware of all she has been through are not available to help her, except for you. Why are you still on Vulcan?"

He hung his head. "My clan mother is pushing me to marry a woman from Shi'Kahr. She has already visited with me on several occasions..."

"And you are going to chose this Shi'Kahr woman over the girl who has pined after you for a year? The last time we spoke of her, you struck me in retaliation for calling her immature! Have you taken leave of your logic?"

This made a spark of fury flare up in him. "You are no longer my superior, and although I am grateful that you have taken so much time to relieve my travel restrictions-"

"You fool! Even a man of T'ua's clan can make his own decisions! She needs you, Strom, and if you do not act quickly, another man will find her and make her whole, and you will regret for the rest of your days that you did not act now. I know the pain of regret, Strom of Raal, and I do not wish that pain on you. Act, before another does...before she harms herself. She is on the brink of self-destructive behavior, and never has she needed you more. Come to Earth. Unless you released her and do not wish to have her anymore..."

He stared at the screen, pondering his lonely existence, the brief period of happiness he had found with Lucy.

"Thank you, Osu, for your consideration. I rejoice with thee on thy marriage and child."

"Will you come to Earth?" Oratt was insistent, and it seemed Yuris' stories were true. The man had truly changed.

"She truly...she is still so young, Oratt..."

"Do you wish your line to continue or not, Strom of Raal? Youth is fertility, and I could smell on her that she is untouched. Act now before that changes."

Strom felt his face grow warm as a green flush spread over his cheeks, and then he nodded, hope springing in his heart for the first time in ages.

"I will inform Osu Kor that I have been assigned elsewhere."


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon, dinopoodle, Ahlysha, maba7x, GEMouse, 2redbird and the anon reviewer for reviewing!**_

Sirak smoothed his tunic as he walked down a side street of San Francisco. His ultimate destination was just down the way, a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant, as Star had described it. Lucy had helped him pick the location, and told him to dress nicely for it.

She was waiting in the light of a streetlamp, leaning against it, reading an old paperback novel. The maitre d' was right inside the door, so Sirak assumed she was not terribly concerned about getting robbed or kidnapped or some other atrocious, violent thing.

Star looked up at him and smiled as he came closer, and he gestured to the restaurant.

"Shall we?" he said politely. Her grin widened, and the maitre d' led them to their reserved table, in secluded corner, with a view of the city.

She was dressed in dull purple this evening and had a bronze pendant around her neck, and he lightly caught the chain of it on his finger and drew it up to eye level.

"An IDIC?" he queried, letting it fall back to her chest. She nodded.

"Lucy got it for me for my birthday. She explained what it means...I like it."

"It looks becoming on you. And the color contrasts rather nicely with your dress. You look lovely this evening, Star."

She blushed bright pink and dove into her menu, scanning the first page. "You've always looked handsome...you looked even more polished than usual tonight."

"Thank you," he replied, as was customary on Earth.

The waiter approached them, asking for their drink order, and Sirak ordered tea, while Star ordered wine. She looked at him. "I hope you don't mind my ordering alcohol, but...I'm a little nervous." She gave him a kind of helpless smile.

"I am not offended. Vulcans do not react to alcohol, and I am not agreeable to the taste or I would join you. I am told you are a vegetarian. Is that accurate?"

Star blushed slightly. "Yes, I've been so for about five years now."

"That is most agreeable. Eating the flesh of another living being is barbaric in many ways. Is this the first time you've been here? It is for me. I normally cook my dinners at home."

"Well, you've seen how I am. I can assemble things, but I never could cook. I burn everything I touch."

Sirak raised an eyebrow at her exaggeration, but his mind was drifting in a different direction. He shook his head of that thought. "So is this your first time here?"

"Oh, no, some friends and I came here to celebrate the end of the semester. Their vegetarian eggrolls and the eggplant crepes are really good."

"Then I will try one of those dishes, because you recommended it. Ms. Hardister tells me you like to sing. What voice part are you?"

"I'm a soprano," she said, and his eyes lingered on the way she was blushing, his ears picking up the softness of her voice. His study of human biology suggested that she might be...no, that was unlikely...

"I sing what you call baritone. Perhaps we should sing together at some point in the future."

Star's pupils blossomed in her eyes as her very active imagination suddenly had them singing "Music of the Night" from the _Phantom of the Opera_, she dressed as Christine, and he as... She blinked, trying to push away the internal movie. He was sexy in his robes, in tails and a fedora, and he might well be her undoing.

"I'd love that," she said, her voice already in a sing song lilt.

The waiter returned. "Do you know what you want?"

Sirak looked at Star. "Shall I order for us both?"

She nodded.

"We will have the vegetarian eggrolls, and the eggplant crepes."

"If you order the lover's special, which is an appetizer, an entree, and a dessert, it's only 29 credits..."

Sirak looked to his date. "Choose the dessert if you desire one. I am agreeable to sweets, just not chocolate."

Her pupils grew darker as the waiter said "lover's special", and she ordered the creme brule for them both, and they decided on tomato soup for their appetizer.

"So what kind of music do you sing? Any Earth styles that appeal to you?"

He considered the question for a moment. "I mostly sing Vulcan chants, but I believe opera is an interesting Earth style that appeals to me. Klingons have opera as well, but it is much more vocally challenging, and more violent than Earth operas."

"Violent?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she took a sip of wine.

"Females tend to dominate the operatic arts on Qo'noS, and if her male partner is not singing to her satisfaction, after the performance, she may hunt him down and physically punish him for not giving his best."

Star sighed; she didn't realize it, but she was melting in her chair looking at him. He was so cosmopolitan, and he knew the most interesting things. Her heart fluttered in her chest. _She_ was out with him, just him and her.

"I love opera and musical music. If..." She bit her lip and looked up at him with near-pleading eyes. "You would teach me a Vulcan chant, I would teach you some musical numbers. I can see you as a certain character, actually..."

Sirak liked the sound of that. "What character, if I may ask? I am not well versed in human music but I do know some..."

"The Phantom, from _Phantom of the Opera_..." she gushed, unable to believe she was saying it out loud. It was as if every wet dream she had about Sirak for the last month was suddenly coming true.

Her eyes were even darker than before, and the way she was staring at him, as humans referred to it, moon-eyed, he concluded that there was a 56% chance that she was attracted to him. She was intelligent and kind, and though she was slight (his thoughts rushed to how she might fare in fever, but he pushed the thought away), she was an aesthetically pleasing woman.

"I am familiar with that character, but his ethics seem...unsavory. However, his singing parts are musically pleasing. May I ask...why do you find this character suitable for me?"

"It's more the Phantom's aesthetic appeal than his actual character that makes him so popular. A hypnotizing angel dressed in black who only wants to be loved...who can resist that?"

He smirked ever so slightly as the appetizer was set in front of him. "Ah. I assure you, I would never kidnap you or harm you in any way. Did you know that the book the musical is based on was your Western world's first mystery novel?"

"It's my favorite book, and my favorite musical," she gushed, leaning forward. "Plus, the Phantom never wanted to hurt her...he only wanted to love her and be loved in return in a world that judged him. Even his mother judged him...on how he looked on the outside."

The story meant a lot to her, and she'd always thought Christine should have gone with the man who took an interest in her passions. "I think...she should have stayed with him in his cave," she added softly. "He supported her passions, and she was his passion."

Sirak could not help but compare the theme of Phantom with the ancient days of Vulcan. "A man on my planet, back in the days before logic, used to sneak into a rival clan's house, and steal the woman he desired. He took her to a cave to make her his mate."

Star blushed. "Really?"

"Indeed. And on occasion, much like the Raul character, he would meet a challenger. He would fight each other to the death to claim the right to take the female as his own."

Star swallowed thickly. If Sirak was willing, she was going to dress him like the Phantom for Halloween. "That..." she paused, staring at him directly, "is nothing like I imagined your people."

She took a sip of her wine, stealing herself. "How does it work now?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Although we have purged our more...aggressive and violent instincts, we still favor a straightforward approach when it comes to marriage. The interested party will ask his or her potential mate if they wish to marry them, and usually cite logical reasons for choosing them. Vulcans typically do not date, and most have no concept of the practice."

He noted she looked slightly disappointed, but he pressed on. "It is very admirable that you are so curious about other cultures, that you do not assume that things are done the same way on other planets. Perhaps you should try for diplomacy. I believe you would excel."

Star blushed hotly. "Thank you." she beamed. "I'm...a literary major, with a political science minor. Do you really think I'd be good in diplomacy?"

"Of course, but I am also agreeable to your literary major. My original degree is in psychology. We grow as we grow older, Star. Where you start does not mean that is where you end up. You are extremely intelligent, so there is nothing out of your reach. I have no doubt of that."

He reached for the eggroll tongs to pick one up, and their fingers met. He felt a pulse like a shock racing up his fingers and he gasped.

"Star..." he muttered, his voice deepening.

She felt an electrifying tingle race down her arm, and she pulled her hand away, thinking she had shocked him. "Sorry, didn't mean to touch you there..."

He breathed out slowly, then gestured to her plate, and she was worried she might have upset him. "I really am sorry about that-"

"Star, it was an accident," he insisted gently. He took two eggrolls for himself, then reached for a fork and knife.

"I don't mean to be rude...and I get the feeling this is a cultural thing...but eggrolls are meant to be eaten with the hands."

Sirak nodded. "I am aware of how they are traditionally consumed, but Vulcans do not eat with their hands. To do so would be..." He trailed off, watched her wrap her lips around the food and sink her teeth into the filling. He blinked, then stared down at his food.

"Erotic," he finished, staring at his eggroll.

Star choked a bit, swallowed, and looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

He glanced up at her, it was then he realized, truly realized what was happening. His _katra_ was coming forth, and raging in his heart. She was stirring him. His eyes softened.

"It is a sexual overture, it is erotic," his gold eyes twinkled at her, "as touching of the fingers are as a kiss."

The beast of illogic demanded he reach out and touch her fingers, but he calmed it with a sip of tea. He would have to meditate on this.

She flushed. "So...you're saying that me eating my eggroll with my hands is seen as a come-on...and me touching your fingers just now was tantamount to kissing?"

"Yes," he replied. "But I respect your culture, and your culture is different than mine. If I educate you now, you will be a better diplomat for it."

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."

"You...you did not. However, I will have to increase my meditations tonight, as a new revelation has come to light in regards to you."

"And that is?" She waited with bated breath for an answer.

He sat a bit taller, and his golden eyes stared softly at her. "You are a very agreeable woman. Aesthetically, I have met few women that compare. I believe you have stirred something within me that has never roused before."

He sipped is tea, then very calmly said, "I believe you to be the twin of my _katra,_ Star. Forgive the boldness of my speech."

"Um...thank you?"

She paused as dessert was placed in front of them, and she frowned, not sure what to say. On the one hand, he said she was aesthetically pleasing, and that few compared to her, but on the other hand, she wasn't sure if stirring a _katra_ was a sign that he was getting horny or something completely alien.

"That's very kind of you to say, but...aren't you jumping the gun a bit?" She rubbed the back of her neck. "I think you're very handsome, and a wonderful person, but I'm not sure if I'm...ready for that yet."

Sirak looked down at his plate. "I am afraid there is no controlling the _katra_, Star. It is not something I can control. I will...meditate on the matter." He fell silent. He was in tumult now, if he had fixated on her then he would have no other, but if she had no desire for him...He pushed the thought down. Meditation would clear his mind, perhaps it was seeing her eat in such a provocative fashion and not a true _katra_ stirring. He might have to call Sorak. His brother, he knew, had more knowledge of humans, and these matters.

Star looked down at her plate as well. She wasn't sure if Sirak had just said the Vulcan version of a pick-up line, or if this was something sweeter. She had no idea what a _katra _was, but maybe Lucy would know. Star made a mental note to tell her about this date, and get to the bottom of what Sirak really wanted.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. Thank you so much to Fameanon and Ahlysha for reviewing.**_

Strom fetched himself a mug of Vulcan spice tea and took a seat in the corner of the mess hall, sighing as he turned on his PADD and reviewed his new post for the fifteenth time. This job would be a new challenge, a refreshing start, and he would be close to Lucy...

He shook his head of the thought and concentrated on reviewing his duties. With this position came a modest apartment near headquarters, though Strom doubted he would be spending much time there. Lucy needed his help, just as Oratt had said...

Memories of the violent dreams he sometimes had about his former superior surfaced in his mind, but he shoved them away and took another sip of tea.

In place of contemplating his dreams, he found himself analyzing his behavior in regards to Lucy. Oratt had explicitly stated that she needed his help, that she was waiting for him to return...but he was still plagued with doubt. She had grown now, had spent a year on her own, working independently towards her dreams. Did she really need him?

When he wasn't haunted by thoughts of what he might have done to Lucy, had Koss not stolen her, Strom often dwelled on the way her traumatized mind had focused on him. He remembered clearly the day he had gone for a walk in the woods with her, and then was suddenly kissing her in the autumn leaves. He remembered staring blatantly at her rear end as she bent to retrieve something for him...what that something was, he could not recall. The bite mark she had given him still tingled on his chest...

How she must secretly loathe him.

And yet, the desire to be with her had not left him, even after the fever dissipated. He longed to find her, but he was ashamed of himself, unsure of her affections...what if she did not want him in return?

He was brought sharply out of his self-deprecating reverie by a conversation at the next table, where two Vulcan men were discussing a recent joint venture between Vulcans and humans, a science mission to a nebula in between Vulcan and Earth.

"I, for one, am astounded they have survived so long with their rampant emotions," one said, a tall man with dark eyes and light brown hair. His robes designated him as from a high house. "My father always votes to delay their expansion into space. They are dangerous, and if they taint the interstellar community with their violence and barbarism, how will Vulcan last?"

"We are stronger than they," his companion assured him. "Vulcan will survive, as we have survived thousands of years."

"Indeed," the first said. "They are no more threat than a wild _sehlat_. Barbaric, animalistic even, but if contained and controlled, it is manageable."

"An apt analogy," the second agreed, sipping his tea.

Strom realized he had snapped the handle of his cup, and stared at the broken metal band in surprise.

"Shall I get you a new cup, doctor?" the first Vulcan asked, and he looked up at the younger man, scowling at him.

"No, but your service is appreciated," he said coldly, picking up the broken handle to dispose of it in the waste chute across the room.

"You have a differing opinion about humans?" the second Vulcan asked as he returned, blinking up at him with a slightly smug gaze.

"I do," he said firmly. "But I will not share that opinion with you, because you will not hear it. My words would fall on deaf ears."

"There is nothing more healthy in our society than debate," the first said, moving over a chair to make room for him to sit down. "Come, join us...and tell us your opinion."

"You believe the humans to be no better than wild _sehlats_, am I correct?"

The first Vulcan shrugged. "Yes, I believe I stated that opinion."

"Then tell me," Strom growled, "why it was a _Vulcan _who was recently responsible for ten deaths. Eight women, violated, their minds ravaged, a maintenance worker, and a doctor in the IME...all dead, because of a Vulcan."

The second man began to respond, but Strom slammed his fist down on the table, making their tea shake. "Do not forget that underneath an _extremely_ thin veneer of logic lies a beast within each of you worse than any human could imagine. Are you so arrogant to believe that you are the most superior beings in the galaxy?"

Both of them were speechless, staring at him with cautious eyes as he straightened. "I ought to break both your arms for your insolence," he growled at the first Vulcan, and as he turned away, he noted that every eye in the mess hall was on him. He glared back at them, then stormed from the room.

The walk to his quarters seemed to take much longer than usual, and he still felt eyes on him when he locked the door to his room. Mousse strolled up to him and wrapped its furry form around his ankles, and he picked the feline up and cradled it in his arms.

"Mousse, do you think she will forgive me?"

The cat only purred and rubbed its head against his chin, and he stroked it, scratching his nails lightly down the feline's back.

"You truly are not very helpful in these matters, but I thank you for being a constant companion for me. No doubt she will want _you _back..."

He sighed and laid down, closing his eyes against the violence and hatred boiling in his brain. Mousse settled into a neat little ball on Strom's chest and promptly fell asleep, and the Vulcan stroked it until sleep found him again.

…

"So basically you need to add a few more descriptive passages about the surroundings, fix that run-on sentence on the second page, and you're good to go," Lucy said, flipping back to the cover page of Vester's story. She handed him the PADD.

"You are a life-saver, Ms. Lucy," he said in his best Southern accent, and she giggled.

"Do you feel confident about this midterm?"

"I'll do just fine, sweetie. Now Star, on the other hand..."

"What about her?"

Vester sighed. "I think she went out on a date with your Vulcan language hunk, and it didn't turn out so hot."

Lucy frowned. "What went wrong?"

"I don't think anything went wrong, she just doesn't know where to go from here. I was hoping you, Ms. Vulcan Expert, could sort baby girl out."

"Tell her to come over and talk tonight, and I will do just that."

"Awesome."

He packed up his things, and Lucy handed him his textbooks and PADDs until the doorbell rang. She ran to get it, traversing her small living room in five easy steps.

Oratt was standing on the doorstep, dressed in Vulcan robes, and he bowed his head ever so slightly as she stepped aside, allowing him to come in. He was carrying a large box and set it on her couch as Vester cleared the rest of his things away.

"Ms. Hardister, I am here to ask a favor."

"Is Desiree ok?"

"Desiree is well, I assure you. I would be...pleased if you would assist me with something."

Vester hung around in the background, putting away their dirty dishes and clearing up the trash from her coffee table.

"Are you otherwise engaged this evening? And may I ask who this young man is?"

"This is Sylvester. He's a friend. And no, I am not otherwise engaged this evening, doctor."

Oratt nodded in satisfaction and pulled a full set of Vulcan robes from the box. "If you would please dress yourself in these and accompany me, I would be grateful. I am greeting my new staff at the transport station, and I understand you speak nearly fluent Vulcan."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"I wish my staff to become acclimated to humans, and seeing a human who can speak their language and is very familiar with their customs will be...less disconcerting than being submersed in human culture too quickly."

"Am I supposed to continue chatting with your new staff? I was hoping to get some studying in tonight."

"Girl, all you do is study," Vester protested, tossing some crumpled papers into the trash. "Get out of this apartment and get some fresh air, child, or I swear..."

"Midterms are next week. I need to study."

"You _need_ some sunshine and fresh air, Lucy. Mr. Vulcan over here needs your help, so go help the man out."

Lucy sighed and turned back to the elder doctor. "How long is this going to take?"

"No more than two hours. I will even provide you with dinner at my home afterwards, if you wish."

She considered it, then took the robes from him with narrowed eyes. "I smell a conspiracy here, Oratt. I'm watching you."

He simply raised an eyebrow, and she backed away a few steps before turning and walking to her room.

…

The ride to the transport was silent, although they had exchanged a short conversation about their current situation and to make sure that all was well with the other. After that, silence reigned in the aircar, but after several minutes, Lucy felt compelled to speak again.

"So these new staff members...may I know their names?"

Oratt nodded. "There are three of them, two males and one female. The males are Merivik and Rojel, and the female is T'Chet. Rojel and T'Chet have recently earned their medical degrees, but Merivik is older, and has spent several years in the IME, on Denobula, in fact."

"And they know English?"

"Of course."

"That wouldn't have been a problem if they didn't. I was simply curious."

They fell into silence again, and Lucy felt her eyes begin to droop. However, Oratt began their descent before she could fall asleep, and she sat up, forcing herself to wake up.

"The shuttle should arrive ahead of schedule. It should land in approximately three minutes. Come."

She obeyed his request and followed him into the station, but she paused when she saw Desiree sitting on one of the benches, next to Sorak and Mina.

"Oratt, what on Earth?"

He glanced sidelong at her. "All will explained in time. For now, let us greet our guests."

Lucy took up a post between Oratt and Sorak, but she leaned forward and glared at her mother. "_What are you planning, mother?_" she hissed in Spanish, but Mina shrugged and kept her eyes on the door where the new arrivals would come through.

Vulcans filed through the door and broke off to go to their respective destinations, and she waited for the three assistants to come through. Three doctors did enter and walk up to Oratt, and Lucy raised the _ta'al_ to them.

"_Welcome to Earth. Your service honors us,_" she said clearly, and they all bowed their heads. Oratt took them aside and gave them a chip, and they continued on. Lucy frowned.

"Doctor, if those were the three doctors you wanted me to greet, then why am I here?"

The elder physician simply gestured to the door, where a lone Vulcan was standing, apparently the last one off the shuttle. He held a black bag in one hand and an animal carrier in the other, and when Lucy clapped eyes on him, he set both things down and slowly advanced towards her.

His usually prim and pressed suit was slightly wrinkled, and his hair was not as neat as the last time she had seen him. It almost looked as if he had run his hands through it several times, then tried to flatten it without much success. He reached up and combed his nails through it, and she admitted privately that it was a small improvement.

"Lucy," he croaked, holding his arms open wide for her. She was frozen in place, until her brain finally told her legs to start moving, and she set off towards him at a sprint.

She collided with him, making them collapse onto the floor, but she was too busy kissing him to really think too hard about that. He groaned into her mouth and wrapped his arms tight around her, and she mussed up his not-quite-perfect hair, ruining his previous efforts with a few strokes of her fingers.

"Strom," she breathed, pushing herself up so she could get a good look at him. He looked exhausted, drained, but a spark of pleasure twinkled in his blue eyes as he stroked two fingers down her face.

"_I missed you_," was all she could think to say, and he slowly sat up and drew her body to his lithe frame, and he rocked her back and forth as tears streamed down her face.

"_Please don't leave me again_," she begged him in hardly audible Vulcan. "_I can't lose you again._"

"_I am here, Lucy. I am here, and I promise I will not leave._"

She nodded and held him tighter, oblivious to her mother and Desiree applauding the scene. All that mattered was that he was home, and she was reunited with her _k'diwa_, never to part again.


End file.
